Forever
by Balviet123
Summary: The diary of Balthasar in his physical prison of the future of the post-Apocalyptic world.  Mentions of Belthasar/Schala.  R&R?
1. Chapter 1

Forever

_"Why would you design something that could easily kill so many people?"_

Why would I have? Looking back, I shouldn't have. Nor should I have helped that dreadful woman with her plots to rule the world. But I did. And I cost the dear girl her and her brother's life. The poor dears…I never should have.

It can sound cliché, but I refuse to state my name. Through these words, it'll probably slip regardless.

Once upon a time, I was powerful and great, though somehow inferior to Her Grace. I had seen her grow and develop into a strong, sincere young ruler as the kingdom worshiped and secretly wished she would rule soon, rather than her mother. It was probably quite sinful to think, but the Queen was cruel, whereas she was gentle to the denizens.

Her name was Schala, and she was so…beautiful. Her benevolence was exemplary. Others admired her as well, but I felt I was closest to her.

It was wrong; I was easily thirty or so years older than she. I could have been her father, and I knew it. But the way she would tuck her rolling curls behind her ears as she assisted Janus with his spells—it was enough to make your heart play a hymn for her.

Some may have called her a siren, but that judgment was so wrong! There was no way a beautiful woman like Schala could be named something so horrid. She was a goddess; if only she were the queen of Zeal, the Kingdom of Magic. Maybe then…

Maybe then I wouldn't be trapped here in the year 2297 A.D., thousands of years from home. I could pilot my Wings of Time, but then who would warn those who live here to not attempt Death Peak?

Ah, my mind grows weary. Perhaps someday someone will find a way to reunite us as the queen and her guru. At this point, my hear longs merely to see her face again; to hear her voice again. Anything to create a clearer image of her in my mind.

Yet, there is no way to do so. That vortex Lavos created—I'm not sure why we continue to use a name some cave-person (a Neanderthal, really) must have invented when the queen states that all who did not possess magic were to be banished. People from such a prehistoric age must have been capable of such spiritual energy! Humans here are not even capable of that!

It's strange how people change over time. My recording here must be quite jumpy, but there is much to write before I go completely mad from abandonment. There is nothing here, you see, and I have been deserted next to the mountain which I have named 'Death Peak' where Lavos has chosen to bring forth its spawn. On the other side of my dome, there is an access to the sewers, a place crawling with mutants my magic cannot face. They are not too strong; I am merely too weak.

But back to people and their changes. How is it the Kingdom of Zeal, a place in a point of time people here have dubbed 'B.C.' (I am not sure what that abbreviation sprouted from) had Skyways and airships and magic, and here, in the future of the world, they have things that recover your health and pain in seconds, but leave you famished. Why was our civilization so advanced? Because the gods had blessed—rather, _cursed _us—with magic?

_Gods, _I miss her. I miss every aspect of her. Her smile…her face…

There is a creature here with me, one that once lived in Zeal as well. I have named it a 'Nu', and it is honestly one of the best companions someone could ever hope for. It—I shall refer to it as a male from now on—it is so supportive and treats me as though I were still a royal in Zeal.


	2. Chapter 2

It has now been three years since I became trapped here; three years since I've been able to write again.

A curious trio came to see me the other day. I don't know why they came, but they did. There was something curious about one of them. There was this strawberry blonde-haired girl with those blazing blue eyes that matched dear Schala's hair. That fire in her eyes…it remained me of the same spark in Schala's. And then she had the pendant that had been crafted from the Mammon Machine and had been given to dear Schala so many years ago.

I had to keep my eyes averted; staring would seem rude. And that man who was with her…he had the strangest shade of hair. It reminded me of the colors of Zeal, vibrant and flamboyant, bringing the attention directly to him and keeping your eyes there.

Remaining relatively silent, _I_ continued at my work, pausing only when that boy came over to me and nudged me, hoping for a reason.

People saw me as insane. I had to keep up that persona. Why would I want to change how people saw me just because of how someone looked? It didn't make a difference to me.

When he expected a result, I kept my voice hardly above a whisper. I always said the same thing over and over.

"Schala…how I miss you."

Those were the words my body produced, until a new phrase would leap into my mind concerning Death Peak and 'They' having to show the way. The last part was really a clever trick to make them leave me be.

And it worked.

I feel my body growing weak as I record these thoughts. Will anyone read this? Anyone?

That Nu creature…he is my last hope. I have figured out a way to record my memories and thoughts into it.

The boy returned with the girl. I believe her to be a relation of Schala's. And though she is beautiful, my heart longs for Schala Zeal.

I love you, Schala. If these words find you, remember that.

I love you.


End file.
